


From You the Flowers Grow

by daggers_in_the_smiles_of_men



Category: The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 06:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17913761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daggers_in_the_smiles_of_men/pseuds/daggers_in_the_smiles_of_men
Summary: Ada receives a bouquet of roses, but who could have sent them? After all, Hecate is allergic.





	From You the Flowers Grow

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song "Patricia" by Florence and the Machine.

Ada breathed a heavy sigh as she gently closed her office door behind her, resisting the urge to slam it shut with the full force of the frustrations she felt building inside. It was, after all, her responsibility as Headmistress to “Keep calm and witch on.” She could hardly set such a poor example for the girls and the other staff simply because she was having a stressful week.

Ada managed a weary smile as Pendell circled affectionately around her legs with a rumbling purr.

“At least _you’re_ happy to see me,” she said with a chuckle as she gave his head a loving pat.

The sudden knock on the door gave Ada a sense of unease. She paused as she took a deep breath, wishing to delay whatever disaster she would have to face next.

“Come in,” she called with as much composure as she could muster.

“Sorry I’m late, Miss Cackle,” said a frazzled-looking Dimity Drill as she swept into the room.

“Late?” Ada echoed, her brows knitting together in confusion.She grimaced as she remembered the promise she had made. “For the meeting,” she answered herself regretfully, “about Sports Day…”

“If you’d rather meet another time…” Dimity offered, noting Ada’s hesitation.

Ada cast an anxious glance at the clock. She mentally carded through the remainder of her tasks for the day, desperately trying to find a way to fit in a few moments of her time for Dimity. 

“Another time, then,” Dimity nodded definitively.

“But —“

“It’s alright. I understand you’re busy,” she said sincerely. “We have plenty of time.”

Ada gave her a grateful smile, ever thankful for the patience and understanding of her staff.

“Your flowers are beautiful!” Dimity exclaimed, indicating Ada’s desk. “Who sent them?”

Realizing that she had not quite made it to her desk in the midst of her weariness and confusion, Ada turned, only then setting her gaze on an ornate vase of what must have been at least a dozen or so pink roses — her favorite.

“I’m not sure…” Ada mused, moving to search for a note but finding none.

Amongst the clutter and disarray of her desk, the vase of roses, sparkling in the golden sunlight like a precious jewel, brought a certain beauty to the disorder.

“I’m sure we can think of _someone_ who might have sent them,” Dimity said, stifling a laugh.

Ada quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe you should ask HB,” Dimity proceeded with a sly grin.

Ada busied herself with adjusting the vase on the desk.

“Miss Hardbroom is allergic to flowers,” she replied quietly.

“Still...” Dimity went on, her lips twitching with mischief. “It might make more sense if you talk to her.”

Ada was not altogether convinced, but she was far too tired to argue. Before she could concede, however, another knock sounded at the door.Ada squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, hoping beyond hope that this would not be another mishap or one more responsibility that had somehow slipped her mind. Without a word, she waved a hand to magically unlock and open the door.

When Hecate entered, eyes watery and nose red, Ada had a fleeting thought that Dimity’s smile might split her face in two. Dimity cast a side glance at Ada, who was making a good show of feigning nonchalance.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Dimity announced enthusiastically. “And HB, maybe you should take a potion for those allergies,” she added with a chuckle before hastening out of the office.

“Good afternoon to you as well, Miss Drill,” Hecate deadpanned after her, her voice raw and scratchy.

“We were just discussing the flowers,” Ada commented, gesturing toward the bouquet on her desk. “I was wondering why someone might have thought to send them to me.”

“I suppose they knew they were your favorite,” Hecate answered softly, a sheepish grin playing at her lips. “You deserve something to cheer you up after the dreadful week you’ve had.”

Ada resisted the overwhelming urge to embrace her, uncertain of how welcome the gesture might be. Before she could reply, Hecate blew a sneeze into her handkerchief.

“I’ll just transfer them to my room,” Ada said. “I know you’re allergic.”

“It’s alright. I’ve already taken a healing potion,” she replied, her cheeks flushing hot as she realized she had revealed too much.

Ada smiled warmly at her.

“Perhaps the next time someone is kind enough to send me flowers, they can substitute with an artificial arrangement.”

Hecate cleared her throat and lowered her head slightly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”


End file.
